


Don't Let Me Go

by LiteralCancerTM



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Engament, Fluff, Gay, GerIta Fluff, Happy, Hurt/Comfort, In second chapter tho, Love, M/M, Marriage, Smut, Snuggling, Wedding, gerita - Freeform, reassurance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15445644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteralCancerTM/pseuds/LiteralCancerTM
Summary: Italy is having a rough night. He believes his beloved Germany will leave him one day. And it's up to his boyfriend to fix it.





	Don't Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WatermelonAntlers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonAntlers/gifts).



Germany sat in his office, attempting to quickly finish his work, which had to be handed in by the next day. He received a text from Italy, he could tell from the ringtone, but decided he’d just look at the preview then respond later. If Italy wanted something, he could walk across the house from their bedroom and talk to him. But he wasn’t expecting the text that he received from Italy, of all people.

 

**My Pasta Boy:** Germany, I’m sad.

 

Germany considered getting up and going to comfort his boyfriend, but he had all this work to do. So he’d just text him back and continue working. Knowing Italy, it was nothing serious and something just completely stupid.

 

**You:** Why?

 

**My Pasta Boy:** dunno just sad

 

He sighed, what should he say?

 

**You:** How can I cheer you up?

 

**My Pasta Boy:** I dunno

 

Odd, Italy always knew exactly what he wanted.

 

**You:** Should I make you some pasta once I’m done this paperwork?

 

**My Pasta Boy:** dont bother. It wont make me happy

 

It was a little more serious than Germany had anticipated; pasta always made Italy happy!

 

**You:** I don’t really know how to make you happy. So… There, there.

 

**My Pasta Boy:** Germany.

 

**You:** Yes?

 

**My Pasta Boy:** I feel like Im going to cry

 

Not a cause for concern! Italy always cried. Then why did it feel like something was off?

 

**You:** Don’t cry. I forbid you to cry.

 

**My Pasta Boy:** Too late 

 

Ignoring the pit in his stomach that had formed probably wasn’t the greatest idea. He wasn’t a good boyfriend if he didn’t comfort his lover when needed. Germany left the room with an uncertain glance to his work. He’d definitely be back to finish later. The blonde walked across his and Italy’s house. As he drew near their bedroom door, he heard the unmistakable sound of Italy’s sobs. He paused in the doorway as he saw Italy in a heap on their bed. “Italy, what’s wrong?” he asked, going to sit next to the sobbing country. He placed his arms around Italy and set his chin on the top of Italy’s head. Italy didn’t return the hug as he usually would have.

 

Italy shifted to rest his head against Germany’s chest, still crying. “I’m sad, Germany,” he said, “I don’t know why and I don’t like it. I’m sorry.” 

 

He was confused; why was Italy sorry. There was nothing to be sorry  _ for _ . “Don’t be sorry, honey. There’s no need.” What the hell was going on with Italy? Since when was he sorry for nothing?

 

“But I am.”

 

There was nothing to really say. Italy never got like this and Germany didn’t know how to deal with this yet. “You cannot be, I command it.”

 

The brown eyed nation pulled away from his lover’s embrace and looked up at him with a pathetic and dejected look. “Do you hate me, Germany?” 

 

His words and his sorrowful face pierced through Germany’s heart like an arrow. Of course he loved Italy! Where did he even get that idea? Germany shook his head, grabbing Italy’s hands in his. “No, I don’t. I love you.” He wasn’t one to profess his love all the time to a lover, but Italy was another case. He’d never loved anyone so much as he had Italy and if Italy didn’t realize that, what was he doing wrong?

 

“Then why do I feel this way?” Italy’s eyes were sad and confused, looking to Germany for answers.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Italy let out a hard sob, taking his hands from Germany’s to cover his face and his tears. “I-I don’t know if… if I’m even worth the time.” He paused and tried to make the tears stop, but they just kept falling. “You can just forget about me, then you can be happy. Because I know I can’t make you happy.”

 

Germany just wanted to wipe away his tears, kiss him until he felt better, proclaim his love for the smaller nation over and over again. But he was smart enough to know that that wasn’t what Italy needed then. He needed reassurance through words, not through physical contact. “No, Italy! You are one hundred percent worth the time. More so than literally any other being.” But the problem was, he didn’t know where these thoughts were stemming from, therefore, he didn’t know exactly what he needed to say.

 

Italy shrunk into himself, still weeping. “No. I’m sorry, Deutschland. I’ll just leave you alone. You don’t have to keep saving me whenever I need help. Or put up with me. Or anything. I’m not worth shit.” 

 

There were so many things wrong with that statement. The way Italy called Germany by his real name, which he’d never done before, meaning this was entirely serious. The way Italy wanted Germany to just up and leave him. And the way Italy believed he wasn’t worth anything. So, understandably, Germany was very confused. “Whatever made you think that you aren’t worth anything?” he asked, his eyes pleading with Italy. Italy shied away.

 

“You just wouldn’t get it.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I? I want to help you overcome this sadness and these lies you’re telling yourself.” Germany couldn’t stand to see his boyfriend like this, he just wanted to help.

 

Italy coughed into the crook of his elbow, then wiped the snot on his arm. But Germany wasn’t going to scold him for it. He shouldn’t have been so harsh with the little Italian ever. “Because it doesn’t matter. Nothing really does.”

 

Germany was shocked. What could even push Italy to say something so uncharacteristically nihilistic? Maybe Italy just needed to be reminded that he was worthwhile. “Italy, you’re amazing and you deserve the World. There is absolutely no one else that has ever learned my love and admiration like you have, meaning you work hard at a goal. Plus, there is meaning in life, in the small things. Like how your pasta can cheer anyone up. And how, despite years of being immortal and having terrible memories, none of those tough times have made you into a cruel person. And so many other things! Italy, you just have to look.”

 

The Italian looks up at him hesitantly through wet eyelashes and watery tears. “R-Really?” Finally, he got through to him! “But I’m annoying and clingy and Roma always says mean things to me. Other people do too. Doesn’t that just make the other stuff not work?” And there it was.

 

“Life is not a math problem; the negatives don’t cancel out positives. Instead, too many positives with any negatives become a negative. We aren’t people without faults. Sure, you can be annoying, but it doesn’t make me lie to you. It helps make you who you are. And who actually said clingy was a bad thing? I love it about you. Also, your brother is a half-wit cynic who only sees the negatives and looks over the good stuff.” If this was all Romano’s fault, Germany was going to beat the hell out of him.

 

Italy was silent for a couple moments. His sobs had calmed down a bit and he was reduced to tears and whimpers. “I’m just afraid that you’re going to stop loving me and move onto someone else. I’m not all that special or cool, and I never will be. I’m afraid of losing you, Germany. I’m afraid you won’t love me.”

 

This was just stupid. Germany would always continue to love and cherish the light of his life that was Italy. “Italy, have you ever even heard me say that I love you in German, English, or even Italian? To anyone other than you?”

 

“No. Your point?”

 

“That is just one point of the thousands of why I wouldn’t ever leave you for someone else. I take I love yous very seriously, things like that aren’t for just anyone.” He would not leave Italy for anyone.

 

“But you don’t know that. We have centuries to live. We never die. You will get bored and I won’t be able to stop you from leaving.” Italy started crying heavily again, moving away from Germany’s hand that was now resting on his knee.

 

“I don’t think I could ever get bored of you. And even then, every case of experiencing the feeling of love eventually fades, but what shows that someone loves you with all their heart is that they stay with you even though the feeling of love has left. That is what marks true love, and believe me when I say that I truly love you, Italy Veneziano.”

 

Italy quietly listened, allowing Germany’s hand to resume its place on his knee again. “G-Germany… I don’t know what to say.”

 

Germany smiled softly, he knew he finally got Italy back into his right mind. His next move would either prove his love or end in a fight. But he was willing to take a chance. “Actually, honey, there was something I would like to ask. I was waiting for this weekend but I feel like it would be better to do it now- as a way of proving to you that I’m not lying about this. Just, ah, let me get something.” He got up from the bed and dug around in his closet as Italy watched, confused, until he found what he was looking for. He returned to Italy’s side and pulled him up so he was standing. Then, he got down on one knee and opened a small white box that held a pretty ring. “The Republica of Italiana-Veneziano, will you make me the happiest personification on Earth and do me the honour of marrying me?”

 

Italy’s hands flew up to his mouth and the tears resumed, startling Germany for a second before he answered. “ Sí Sí! Yes! I will!” Italy helped Germany up, off his knee and put the ring on. It was a rose-gold band with intricate designs engraved in it. He wrapped his arms around Germany and cried. Germany kissed the top of his head and held him. “I love you, Germany! Ti amo! Ti amo!”

 

“Ich liebe dich auch,” Germany responded, voice muffled by Italy’s soft hair.

 

Italy pulled back slightly, looking up to Germany with joyful eyes. “Who do you wanna tell first? Oh Germany, I’m happy again.”

Germany chuckled at Italy’s eagerness to spread the news. “I just want to be with you right now.”

 

“Okay~” Germany led Italy over to their bed and they began cuddling, arms never leaving each other. “I’m sorry for being so dumb about that, Germany. Thank you.”

 

“Italy, that wasn’t dumb,” Germany assured, petting Italy’s hair, “Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

 

Italy looked surprised. “Even you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The red head snuggled into his German’s strong chest. “I think… I want to be with you forever and ever. So I don’t lose you.”

 

“I do too,” he agreed, “And that’s why I proposed.”

 

There was a moment of silence before Italy giggled. “Roma is going to be so mad~”

 

Germany sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now, I don’t want to think about my future with broken ribs,” he said, kissing Italy’s head again.

 

“Okay” They stayed like that for a couple minutes, just wrapped in each other’s arms. When the sun set and the room got dark, Italy spoke again. “Hey, Germany? Would it be tacky if I wanted to make love with you right now?”

 

“A little, yes.”

 

“Do you mind?”

 

“Not really.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a roleplay I did with my friend. But we only did the dialogue. So I cleaned it up and wrote the rest.


End file.
